


Barack: Kick It

by Glitched_Nebula



Series: my AUs of other AUs, my FICS of FICS [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: ?? - Freeform, AU of an AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, End of the World, Unda, fic of a fic, idk what the fuck im doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 06:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitched_Nebula/pseuds/Glitched_Nebula
Summary: Based on M.C ESCHER THAT'S MY FAVORITE M.C by UNDA.Contains spoilers I guess?Warning: Short





	Barack: Kick It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unda/gifts).



> So this is a thing. 
> 
> I had this idea bouncing around my head and decided to put it out. Sorry if this doesn't do the AMAZING work that is MC Escher that's my Favorite MC by Unda justice.
> 
> Enjoy, if you can.

Your name is BARACK OBAMA. You have many INTERESTS, including BEING THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES and ATTENDING TO YOUR STATELY DUTIES. When you aren't ATTENDING TO YOUR STATELY DUTIES, you like to BE A GOOD FATHER TO YOUR CHILDREN and BE A GOOD HUSBAND TO YOUR WIFE. You just got a call from NASA saying that in a few days' time, that all will end. 

What will you do?

Barack: Kick it ==>

Okay, cut the crap.

Your name is Barack Obama and you, your family, and everyone on Earth will die. There's no eacape, no way to get away from the meteors that are destined to obliterate your planet. This is the end of the world and you don't know how to handle it. 

You sit at your desk in the Oval Office, your phone is still in your hand. Looking up at a clock, you can see twenty minutes have passed. You gingerly place it on the desk's polished surface and pick up a picture of your girls. In a few days, they'll be dead. Everyone will be dead. 

You put your head in your hands. This is too much for one man to bear.

You lift your head and grasp the edge of your sleeve. You pull it up and stare at the marks on your arm, tracing the swooping lines of images on your skin. 

You don't hear the door creak open, but you do hear her voice. 

"Barack?"

Lifting your eyes slowly, you look up to see your wife's face. 

God, how are you going to tell Michelle?

In the end, you don't. You offer her a soft smile as you push past her out the door, nothing more. Her hand brushes your face as you pass her. You lift your own hand to feel the place she touched. You find tears. 

The White House gardens are a place you often find yourself to calm your nerves. Today, you can only think that in less than a week they will be nothing more than a pile of burning rubble. 

You look out at the lawn and see the dent in the ground where that group of trolls and humans landed their ship. You think of everything that's happened in your presidency, how you will be the last president of the United States. 

Everything weighs heavy on you as you walk back into the White House. Michelle is waiting for you in the doorway. 

"Barack, is everything okay?"

You lie. You tell her it's fine. You've known her long enough to see she doesn't believe you. 

"I can't tell you, love. You'll find out soon enough." Your answer seems to satisfy her.

That night, you kiss your daughters' foreheads before bed for the first time in years. They don't question it. 

Four days later, you hold their hands as a ball of fire falls at your feet.


End file.
